


Love Wins.

by ifIsayIneedyouxx



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angry Harry, Fluff and Angst, Harry Styles Loves Louis Tomlinson, Hurt Louis, Hurt/Comfort, Love Wins, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 03:21:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4903597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifIsayIneedyouxx/pseuds/ifIsayIneedyouxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry shows his support for the LGBTQ side of their fanbase more than their management team would like. So when they ask him to tone it down, preferably stop all together, it crosses a line. Louis ends up in the crossfire, and Harry does something he regrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Wins.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the sweetest anon.](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+sweetest+anon.).



> this was for a lovely Anon who noticed that myself, as well as my tumblr are both supportive of having a safe space with no judgement for all genders and for all choices of love. and asked if I could write something short, and sweet about it.   
> comments, kudos, concerns, let me know.   
> visit me at: http://iflsaylneedyouxx.tumblr.com/
> 
> all fiction, i don't own the boys, and this has never happened since it's well...fiction. *but Harry does love Louis though, like a lot.

Harry was angry though, like full body shakes, teeth clenched, hair pulling, white knuckled, kind of angry. And all that anger was currently mixing itself with the adrenaline of just having finished a show. So he was jumpy too.

The moment the boys had come off stage, finishing the set for the night, given their inears, and mics, to the tech crew, that’s when everything went to shit. Someone from their management, some girl that was assigned to be their, “babysitter,” to keep an eye on them, immediately pulled Harry to the side with a stern look and a come here wave.

Nodding, Harry sent the boys off, telling them that he would be in the dressing room in a bit. So they left, Louis straggling behind a little, looking curious. Harry just whispered, “you better save me a spot in the showers babes,” in his ear before giving him a light pat on the bum to get him to go. Giving both himself and the woman he was about to talk to some privacy.

She was thin, the women sent out to keep them in line, thin lips, thin eyebrows, narrowed eyes, probably had a thin personality too. Harry was accepting of all people on their team, except the ones that looked like snakes, like her for example. Liam’s, “snake habitat, turn around,” warning popping up in his head as he approached her making him chuckle a little. It was all very appropriate for the situation he was about to be in. Ironic even.

The woman cleared her throat the moment Harry reached her, in a somewhat secluded corner from their team that was in the process of taking everything down. Harry just crossed his arms feeling guarded as he stood in front of her.

“Mr. Styles.”

Interrupting her before she could even continue in her nasally, condescending tone, “just Harry. But please, continue.”

She didn’t look amused at being corrected, “this is strictly a business discussion so by staying professional I’m to call you Mr. Styles.”

And she was by the Modest Management bible too. Yeah, Harry really wanted to just stare at a fixed point and block out anything she had to say. Because as long as he didn’t violate their contract, what she had to reprimand him for was ignorable.

“It has come to our attention, Mr. Styles, that you have been very, shall we say, patriotic these past few shows.”

That caught him off guard though, raising his eyebrows in confusion, “like red, white, blue, America patriotic?”

Clearing her throat again, “no Mr. Styles. More along the lines of the, red, orange, green, blue, purple, kind of patriotic.”

“Oh.” He got it now, Harry finally understood what this woman was getting at. She, no, management didn’t like that he wasn’t just saying, “love is love.” But that he was showing it to the fans, recently at almost every venue. Dancing with rainbow flags, pointing at the signs with hashtag rainbow direction splashed across.

It was what Modest called, “bad show,” by not sticking to script, by letting personal opinions become apart of their job. Which was something that should be separated. Especially their biggest fear, one they’d snuffed out of Louis years ago, being “too flamboyant.” And that was something Harry would never forgive Modest for, even if Louis did, eventually.

“Ah, I see you’ve finally recognized the issue.”

“Wait, this isn’t an issue. Me giving the fans from the LGBT community my visible support should not be an issue.”

“Excuse me?” She sounded surprised that Harry would even try to fight back on this. Like she was expecting him to just agree to everything and behave. “Mr. Styles, we are simply asking that you tone it down.”

There it is. Harry was wondering when that would be said.   
He could feel his anger beginning to build deep in his stomach. His heart beating a little faster, chest tightening, hands balled into fists.

“You know what? I’ll tone it down when Modest stops with the homophobic requests. Now why don’t you run back to them, tell Modest I said hi, and go help pull the stick out of their asses. You should probably loosen yours a little too. My boyfriend’s waiting for me so you can fuck off now, or later. Love wins, end of.”

And with that, Harry turned on his heel and left her looking extremely offended, which is what he’d been trying to get from her. Except he didn’t feel as triumphant about it as he should. He was seething as he took long strides to their dressing room. Long, fast, strides far away from the ignorant bitch that felt entitled to boss them around.

“Homophobic. She’s a sick, homophobic person. Jesus why am I not surprised. So fucking scared of change.” Harry muttered to himself, pacing in front of the dressing room door. “Don’t show them support, don’t slip up and show them they can feel safe, and accepted.”

That’s when Harry snapped, when words did nothing but fuel his anger further. So he did the next best thing, he punched the nearest wall. It hurt like hell, the shock of the solid concrete pulsing through the tops of his knuckles making him hiss, “fuck,” but ignoring the pain and punching the wall a second time. And a third, the skin beginning to turn an angry red. Wetness started to form in his eyes, his head screaming for him to stop.

So he just slammed both hands against the wall, hanging his head in defeat. His hand burning warm as he shut his eyes tight. A few tears slipping out, landing and staining the ends of his brown suede boots.   
He wanted to yell, to punch the wall some more. He wanted that toxic woman fired, he wanted Modest to be gone.

Harry was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t hear the soft click of the dressing room door behind him. Or the concerned, “Harry? You alright?” From Louis. But he felt the small hand touch his shoulder. And then everything happened in slow motion somehow. And it was the kind of thing that couldn’t be stopped.

Harry turned, his body still trembling, need to break something still coursing through him. And he shoved Louis. Placed both hands heavily on his shoulders and shoved him hard. Making Louis trip backwards over his bare feet and slam against the opposite wall. A startled noise escaping Louis lips as his head was jolted back into the concrete from the force. Sliding down to the floor as his hand immediately went to where he’d hit his head. Crumpled up, face hidden in his knees that were quickly pulled up to his chest. A position meant to be more for self protection than anything.

Harry had never gotten physically abusive with anyone, ever. Not even when he was young. Never threw a punch that didn’t involve a work out. He was just never the, “violence is the answer,” type.

But now, all he could do was stare down at Louis. Frozen as muffled choked sobs reached his ears. What the fuck had he just done? And now, he didn’t know what to do. He knew he should check Louis head, for a bump, Christ, for blood even. Thinking about that made him want to be sick.

Falling to his knees, Harry started to reach out for Louis, wanting to just carefully touch him. Anywhere. Hold him, beg for forgiveness.   
But before his hand could make contact with Louis shaking shoulder, he flinched. Looking up from his arms with scared eyes, shifting back up against the wall, like he didn’t want to be touched. Like Harry being there now was painful enough.

And that made Harry’s throat get tight, his own tears spilling over, teeth biting hard on his bottom lip. Like if it started to bleed it would compensate for what he’d just done to Louis. Even though nothing could.

“You pushed me.” Louis sounded so confused, and hurt, and It went straight to Harry’s heart. Ripping every nerve and tendon in his body.

The guilt, Harry felt so ashamed. Dropping his hand to his side that had been hovering where it was meant to meet Louis but never did.   
Harry just nodded, trying to think of what he could say, or do. “Louis, I-” another deep breath, “I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do. I was angry and upset, and I didn’t mean it. Please I swear, please Louis.” He was begging now, tears streaming down, fingers tangling up with each other. “You know I’d never-I-”

“But you did.” Louis interrupted. His voice cold and angry. The tears had stopped, all except for Harry’s. “I can’t tell you how to fix this because you-ah!” Louis gave a shout that startled them both. His hand flying up to the back of his head once more, face pinched.

Hands helplessly reaching for him, “Louis? Baby? Are you hurt? Let me look,” scootching forward on his knees to get closer. “Jesus, I’m so sorry, at least let me make sure you’re not bleeding.”

“M'not fucking bleeding Haz, just stop. Stop fussing and go alway. I don’t want you right now. Why would you think that I could even stand to be around you right now?”

Harry froze again, for what felt like the thousandth time, Louis words feeling like a knife to his already guilt ridden heart. “Louis, I-I’ll leave you alone. I’m, god, Louis I’m so sorry.”   
Harry began to stand, backing up away from him when all he felt was the need to comfort him. Everything was turned around and it was all his fault.   
-  
Hours later after mindlessly walking around the back lot behind the venue. Getting lost between bus after bus, he finally made his way into a van, and to the door of his, and Louis hotel room. The thought of Louis probably getting a new, separate room, away from him, crossing his mind making his heart sink even further.

Slipping the hotel key in the slot, watching the little light on the lock turn green, Harry shuffled through the doorframe. The sharp, cold air, and faint smell of Louis’ cologne from earlier that day making him shiver. 

All Harry wanted, aside from Louis, was to sleep. Stale sweat on his skin from the show begging to be washed off but he couldn’t even manage it. Shower be dammed, Harry just wanted to sleep. Numb his mind so he wouldn’t feel so alone.

But the moment he turned to the bed, boots off, couldn’t be bothered by the rest of his clothes, a Louis sized lump stopped his breath. Curled up under the blankets and facing the hotel room wall. Harry wanted to get in behind him. Pull him close to his chest, even if it meant waking him. Just so he could have another chance to profusely apologize even more. 

But instead he made his way to the other bed. Climbing under the cold, scratchy sheets. Falling asleep in minutes before he could even start to feel wrong about sleeping alone with Louis so close to him. But so untouchable.  
-  
Waking up the next day, Harry felt like genuine shit. All the memories of yesterday flooding back to him like a recurring nightmare. His head hurt, his mouth felt like sandpaper, and his back felt warm. Strangely warm. Stretching his legs, which, he was sure he fell asleep in jeans last night but maybe he was imagining things, Harry moved to turn on his back but something was keeping from that.

“Mmfff. Haz, stop.” Louis groaning and pushing at him to get him back on his side is what made Harry’s eyes snap open. Louis was there, in the same bed as him. After what went down yesterday, without getting any explanation from Harry as to why things got physical.

“Louis what-what are you?” Harry stumbled over his words. Lack of sleep still messing with his head, making him worry this wasn’t real.

Shushing him quickly, “felt weird. Sleeping alone, with you just here.” Louis warm breath between his shoulder blades was like a anchor to Harry. Keeping him still, and together.

“Baby, I-”

“And you can’t just fall asleep with your clothes on Harry. We’ve gone over this. You never sleep well with all those clothes. You always get over heated and uncomfortable.”

That explained why Harry was just in is pants. He wondered how long it took for Louis to move to his bed. To be fine with the closeness. After some silence, Harry mostly waiting to see if Louis was going to say anything further, Harry took a shaky breath in. Ready to give the speech of his life. Only to be interrupted again.

“And I don’t want to make you feel bad but I have a bump on my head,” Harry winced at that. Because that was his fault, hurting his boy. “And I didn’t want to fall asleep with a bag of ice on my head, only to wake up to a wet pillow. And I’d much rather have you take care of me. So I had no other choice but to just go to bed didn’t I? Because you were god knows where, when I needed you.”

Unable to keep still, especially after hearing all that, Harry couldn’t help but roll over. Needing to look at Louis, and also get him to stop rambling. Because he was growing impatient, and he REALLY needed to explain himself.

“Louis?” Cutting him off mid-sentence. “Can I say what I need to say? Please?” He couldn’t help but smile a little at the way Louis immediately clamped his jaw shut. Blue eyes looking down, fingers lightly brushing up and down his chest. Between the birds, a habit Louis had picked up the moment he’d had them tattooed there.

“Sorry. Rambling. Sorry, just still upset but like, I missed you.”

Harry wrapped his arms around Louis, encompassing him, getting comfortable. Hands reaching up to play with the soft hairs at the nape of Louis neck. Keeping him close.

“I should start by saying sorry,” Harry made sure he was looking right into Louis eyes when he said this. “I would never hurt you and the fact that I did makes me sick. It should’ve been me crawling into bed with you last night. I should’ve chased you back here the moment you sent me away. I was a coward and too wrapped up in my own selfish thoughts. Of me, not deserving you, after what I’d done, that I didn’t think maybe you needed me. Because I’ve known you for so long and I still thought that you telling me to leave meant actually leave.”

Louis pressed his forehead to Harry’s chest, shaking his head. “I’ve never meant what I’ve said when I’m angry. And this was the one time you forgot?”

Groaning, “I know, I’m sorry. Again.”

“I know you are,” reassuring him with a kiss to his Adam’s apple. “But I had every right to be angry with you.”

“That you did. I had my reasons, but hurting you is no excuse.”

Louis tapped a random rhythm into Harry’s skin, sharp white teeth biting at his bottom lip, “I was actually curious about that. Like, I know you. It takes so much to make you that angry.”

Sighing, a little reluctant to dredge up that memory. But it was all apart of the explanation process. “You know that woman assigned to us from Modest?”  
Face scrunching like he’d just tasted something off, “that babysitting bitch?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“What did she say to you? She’s fired right? Tell me you fired her.”

Smiling at Louis automatically growing protective, jumping to conclusions without even knowing what she’d said. “No, she isn’t fired Lou. She just explained to me that management doesn’t exactly share the same interests as I do. Mostly how much I’ve been showing off my support for the LGBT community at the shows. Because apparently it’s offensive to the fan base.”

“Bull shit, more like offensive to them only.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Louis eyes widened, thrown off by the sudden subject change. “What?”  
“I pushed you. You now have a bump on your head. Yet you still took care of me. You stayed Lou. And now you’re defending me? Who even are you?”

Giggling softly, “I know I’m way too good for you if that’s the answer you were looking for.”

Leaning down, lips brushing Louis teasingly, “I’m sorry. Have I said that enough?”

“You know what?” Scootching up and pecking Harry on the lips once, and then a handful more times. “I think you should give Modest a little hell. Last few months with them, go ahead and give em a show.”

Leaning back, grinning, unable to help it, “you really think so?”

Nodding in agreement, “I really think so. I mean, love always wins right?”

Kissing Louis sweetly again, “that it does. And you’ve always had a thing for winning.”


End file.
